I am not a rhymer. 

 In this, I might stammer. 

 Rhyme is a concatenation of success. 

In the hood, I have no access 

To the ingredients of better living. 

And I long for my Thanksgiving. 

They cannot feel it

When they come to visit. 

They have shock absorber, 

My deficient milieu cannot move them.

They like my smile, my pain absorber.

It conceals what they don’t want to see.

To them, nothing rhymes

My laziness and ambition don’t add up. 

To me, nothing rhymes

My hustle and success don’t add up. 

In the hood, nothing does

Until some opportunity comes knocking at our doors. 

I wish,

This poor attempt at nursery rhymes can make them see. 

Rhyme is harmony, hood is chaos

And poverty is not tranquillity.

I can be a rhymer, see. 

I want to rhyme, I want serenity. 

Give me access and see.

_____

Ibrahim Oga is a creative writer and co-founder of the Sisyphean minds writing movement. On Twitter he is @ibtouchdown
Credit: SIERRA LEONE. Freetown. November 2004.  Traditional Creole architecture.
  • I love Ebrahim’s writings. Always a thoughtful approach

    • I never expected the angle he took when I begged him to write about the hood. Really impressed.